Divine glimpses of a maiden muse being various meditations and epigrams on several subjects : with a probable cure of our present epidemical malady if the means be not too long neglected / by Chr. Clobery ...

About this Item

Title
Divine glimpses of a maiden muse being various meditations and epigrams on several subjects : with a probable cure of our present epidemical malady if the means be not too long neglected / by Chr. Clobery ...
Author
Clobery, Chr. (Christopher)
Publication
London :: Printed by James Cottrel,
1659.
Rights/Permissions

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this text, in whole or in part. Please contact project staff at eebotcp-info@umich.edu for further information or permissions.

Subject terms
Religious poetry, English -- Early modern, 1500-1700.
Cite this Item
"Divine glimpses of a maiden muse being various meditations and epigrams on several subjects : with a probable cure of our present epidemical malady if the means be not too long neglected / by Chr. Clobery ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A33473.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 13, 2024.

Pages

The Epigram on the same.

ETernity my Muse doth quite confound: Her true Description never Mortal found. Rings, Snakes, and Globes, with such round things as those Th' Ancients for her di•…•…e resemblance chose; A boundless Plain; a pointless Parallel: A Circle that includes both Heaven and Hell, Yet hath nor Centre; nor Circumference Demonstrable to Reason, or to sence; Each Mathematick poin of whose vast Ring Equals her whole Dimension. Wondrous thing! Yet true as strange. Nay more, I'll tell you what; Think what man cannot think, and she is that.

Page 88

She rounds my Verse, no man her depth can sound, Eternity my Muse doth quite confound.
Do you have questions about this content? Need to report a problem? Please contact us.